Here i'm back in my own space of familiar surroundings and i have achieved a satisfied place in it, which fills me with a feeling of relief but also an underlying melancholy. I'm settling back into home life routine but i'm thankful there are still a few vacation days left. I'll let pointless busy work replace the idleness that lets my mind brood and hope it works out better than before. But sorry, i even said I'm feeling melancholy, that's weird. It's almost 3 am, I don't know what to write, random words, It's not easy to explain why I write, as I don’t know why. I wrote in one night without stopping, I don’t want to stop when I’m feeling good. I let my fingers work. I try to write as fast as I can and move from one phrase to the next without thinking too much. I don’t know where I’m going but I’m really curious, I keep writing.
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